


It's You

by Nevermore_red



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adorable Greg, F/M, Fed up Molly, Fluff and Smut, Late Night Conversations, Lestrolly, Molstrade, Revelations, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9280037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore_red/pseuds/Nevermore_red
Summary: After months of flirting but nothing more, Molly wants to know where she and Greg stand. A body at the morgue pushes her to make the move first.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I've spent the last few weeks devouring everything there was to read on this site of Greg and Molly (that couple tag Molstrade is just awful) and was a little upset that there wasn't more. So I thought I'd add to what was there. This is unbetaed and hasn't been Britpicked (I'm a German living in America so there might be lots wrong). If you see anything glaring please let me know!

Molly stood staring down at the body on her slab. Male, late forties, average height and build. Her autopsy had revealed he had died of an aneurysm. Freak thing, really. The man was in very good shape and was otherwise at the peak of health. From reports she had received along with his body, he'd been out with his wife and kids, buying his wife a new outfit for their daughters upcoming graduation. One second he'd been complaining about how long they'd been at the shops and the next he was dropping to the floor. Dead.

With her job, and the friends she surrounded herself with, Molly was well aware of the fragility of life. It could all be gone in a second. A stray bullet, a precisely placed punch, a car veering out of their lane. A jump from a building. Despite this fact, Molly rarely put a whole lot of thought into her own demise. Thinking about it now, she realised not for the first time just how much time she had wasted pining over a man that would never look at her the same way. Jim from IT (she still had trouble referring to him as Moriarty) had been using her. Tom...Tom was a sad attempt at getting what she couldn't have. Not that Molly needed a man to be happy. She didn't, not really, but it would make the nights less lonely. Life less lonely. It was easy to laugh and smile and carry on with her friends and be happy, but it was another thing entirely when she went home to her flat every night. Toby only offered so much relief.

The thing was, in this moment, looking down at the man on her table, Molly realised something. It wasn't Sherlock she thought about in those lonely moments any longer. He hadn't been for a while now. Neither was it Tom or any other shadow of the consulting detective. The man that occupied her thoughts, and not just in those moments, had slowly become older, shorter, bulkier. Curling brown hair turned silver. Blue-green eyes turned a lovely warm brown. Her whispered moans switched from _Sherlock_ to _Greg_.

Gregory Lestrade made it easy to fall for him. He was affable and always ready with that adorable little grin. He seemed to see her, really see her, when Molly had thought no one ever would. Through the stressors of his job and the disloyalty of his (ex) wife and the general shit that life could be Greg somehow always rose above it. He always maintained a calm demeanor even while exuding the type of strength that made others feel like they could trust and follow him.

They'd spent a few weeks eyeing each other, each a little cautious. Molly actually thought she might have been the one to first initiate flirting. Regardless, Greg readily and enthusiastically joined in. For months now they had been teasing and grinning and laughing with each other. There had been a few less than casual touches, but nothing more. Greg hadn't asked her out on a date, never anything more than a group of them going to the pub or out to dinner. He never tried to kiss her, or even hold her bloody hand! Molly often wondered if maybe he didn't like her as anything more than a friend and perhaps he was just a flirt, or worse, Molly was mistaking his innate kindness as flirting. She realised she could ask him out, or that it could be her that made a move, but that hadn't ever worked out well for her in the past, so she never did.

That was likely the crux of her current thoughts. Life was short and could end at any moment whether we see it coming or not. This man surely hadn't, this poor man that looked just enough like Greg with his graying hair and build to make her chest ache. She suddenly wanted to be elsewhere very, very badly. Work, however, prevented that so Molly went about the last two hours of her shift putting the body where it needed to be and filling out all the proper paperwork and filing it correctly. The second her shift was up, Molly quickly switched out her lab coat for her regular coat and caught a cab out front of St. Bart's. She didn't give herself a second to rethink it before giving the cabby the address. She spent the ten minute ride running over exactly what she was going to say. Before she could come up with any coherent response, the cab was pulling up in front of Greg's building and she paid her fare and climbed out.

What was she even doing? It was late and Molly didn't even know if he was home. If he was, he was likely asleep. Or maybe he'd gone out with some coworkers from the Yard to one of the pubs around. Or, _oh god_ , maybe he was out on a date. Even worse for her, what if he was _in_ on a date? Molly took a deep breath and pulled herself straighter. No. No second guessing herself. Even if he was in on a date, Molly needed to say what she'd come to say. If Greg denied her, then she'd deal. Molly always dealt, this would be no different.

Resolve firmly in place, Molly lifted her fist and knocked on his first floor flat. Trembling in nerves, or perhaps from the cold, Molly wrapped her arms tightly around herself while she waited, suddenly wishing she had at least gone back to her place to shower and change. She likely smelled like the morgue, but no time to worry about that now. Not when she could hear his locks disengaging. As the door pulled open, Molly was very nearly overwhelmed with the urge to turn and flee. She managed to stop herself when she caught sight of Greg's bed rumpled hair and sleep heavy eyes. Her heart kicked up a notch and her stomach felt like it was somewhere in the vicinity of her shoes. Greg squinted a little against the brightness of the porch light and rubbed the heel of his hand against his brow.

"Molly?" he gave her a confused look, then looked around behind her. "Everything okay?" he questioned, voice rougher with his sleep and Molly's knees tried their best to impersonate a bowl of pudding. She wasn't quite sure what facial expression she had as she stood there like a numpty and stared, but it must have made Greg concerned. "Mols?" he reached out a hand and grasped her upper arm.

"What is it? Did something happen? Is it Moria..."

"No!" Molly finally found her voice, the word bursting out louder than she'd intended. "Uh, no. Everything is fine. Nothing wrong. Well, I suppose there was a dead body and if you asked his family they'd disagree." she cut her rambling off with an awkward laugh. "But, no. Nothing wrong here with me. Tip top."

Greg looked mildly amused as he dropped his hand from her arm, a tiny grin curling the edge of his mouth. He raked a hand through his swoon worthy mussed hair and then cocked his head.

"Not that I'm complaining, mind, but why exactly are you here at," he looked at his watch. "half past three in the morning?"

"I just got off work." Molly swallowed and began tugging nervously at the sleeve of her coat. "There was something I wanted to talk with you about and I forgot it was this late. Or early. Bollocks." she groaned. "This is silly. I'm sorry, Greg. I should have called first. Obviously you were sleeping. I'll...I'll just go. Night."

Turning on her heels with a muttered curse, Molly tried to leave before she mortified herself further.

"Molly, Molly stop." Greg stepped out of his door, cursed when his bare feet hit freezing cement. "Christ, it's bloody cold out here. Just, come inside. Please."

With a reluctant nod, Molly followed him into his darkened flat. Greg shuffled into the living room and flipped on a lamp. Molly grinned to herself as she took in his low slung navy pyjama bottoms and white t shirt. The bottoms were wrinkled and creased from sleeping in them but the shirt was crisp looking, leading her to believe that he'd been sleeping without a shirt on at all and only pulled it on to open the door. The thought of him shirtless had her face heating but thankfully her cheeks were already rosy from the cold so Greg likely wouldn't notice.

"Take your coat off." Greg instructed, moving into the kitchen. "Fancy some tea? Or coffee?"

"Yes, please." she nodded, removing her coat and scarf and hanging them up next to his beside the door. Greg chuckled warmly and lifted a brow at her.

"Is that a yes to the tea or to the coffee?"

"Oh, right." she giggled nervously. "Of course. Um, tea? Yes. Tea. It's late, or really early. No need for coffee. I don't want to take anymore sleep from you than I already am."

"It's fine." Greg waved her off, pulling out a kettle and filling it before sitting it on the stove. "Tomorrow's my day off anyway."

After getting the stove set, Greg turned around and motioned for Molly to take a seat at the little battered kitchen table. It always surprised Molly a little how clean his flat always was. She figured it would be a mess seeing as he was a single man living alone. Tom's place always was. Laundry in random places, full sink, horrid bathroom. Greg's place, though a little on the spartan side, was always well kept and tidy even if his furnishings had seen better days.

"Oh, that's nice. Any big plans?"

Greg furrowed his brow, head tipping to the side as he looked at her. "No. A trip to the grocers, but nothing else. Mols, sweetheart, I'm a little confused here. What's going on? I thought you needed to tell me something."

Molly, flushing at the endearment, looked down at her hands on the table.

"Right." she nodded without looking up and she heard Greg sigh as he leaned back in his chair. 

"Did something happen at work?"

"No. Well, yeah. A body came in. I mean, it's a morgue, of course a body came in. But this man got me thinking for some reason."

"How'd he go?" Greg asked.

"It was an aneurysm. Nothing I haven't seen plenty of before. It's just the suddenness of it that got me. His wife, she was with him when it happened. Along with his two daughters."

"Damn." Greg winced. "Poor kids."

"Yeah." Molly agreed. "The last thing he ever said was complaining about shopping."

Greg chuckled softly. "Sounds like a man that has a wife and two daughters."

"The final memory that those women have of their husband and father is him complaining." Molly muttered to herself.

"They won't remember him for that." Greg said quickly. "They'll remember how much he loved them. How much they loved him."

"I know." Molly swallowed and looked across the table at him. "That's the thing, Greg."

Before she could say anything else, the kettle whistled loudly and Greg gave her an apologetic smile before getting up and pulling down two mugs. Placing a bag in each, he filled the mugs before sitting one in front of her.

"Sugar, milk?" he questioned.

"No, thank you."

"So, what's the thing?" he sat back down. "About the dead guy?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with him other than it made me realise something."

"Shopping's horrid?" Greg teased with a grin and Molly laughed lightly.

"No. As cliché as it sounds, it was that life is short. Which I suppose I should have realised long before now with my line of work, but it didn't actively bother me because, well." she stopped and took a steadying breath before pushing her tea to the side and looking over at Greg.

"We've been flirting about for a while now, right?" she questioned and Greg's eyebrow raised. "I mean, I wasn't just imagining it was I? That wasn't just you being nice to me and me turning it into something more, was it?"

"No." he sat forward in his chair to lay his arms out on the table, hands stretching out towards hers without taking them. "No, god Mols, no. Yes, I was flirting. Rather badly, it would seem, if you had to question it. I've been out of practice I suppose."

"No, you were doing wonderfully." Molly quickly assured him. "I just, well it isn't often that men flirt with me and I wasn't certain if I was just confusing your normal kindness for something more."

"It was something more." Greg smiled at her, reaching out to close the small distance between their hands to gather both of hers into his.

"Good." Molly licked dry lips. "That's...good. Do you think you'd ever want to do more than just flirt? Or is that all it is, harmless flirting?"

"That's not all." Greg cleared his throat and squeezed her fingers gently. "I would want more, I do, but I just never." he stopped himself with a shake of his head. "Molly, you're so much younger than me."

"Sixteen years isn't an insurmountable difference, is it? We're both adults. I'm not a child."

"No, you're not." he grinned and suddenly his fingers felt a lot hotter around hers. "And maybe it isn't if neither of us care. Do you care?"

"I wouldn't have come over at this ungodly hour if I did." she smirked at him. Greg chuckled lightly then sighed and looked down at their clasped hands.

"I'm divorced. My work destroyed my marriage. It's not the type of job a lot of women can handle."

"I'm not a lot of women." she pointed out. "And your wife's cheating ruined your marriage." she countered. "You were a copper when she married you. She knew the deal."

"I know." Greg shrugged. "But I'm not completely blameless in the ordeal. She needed reassurance that I loved her more than I loved my job, that what we had came before it, and I couldn't give her that."

"Done and over." Molly squeezed his hands, smoothing her thumbs over the backs of his knuckles. "Right?"

"Of course, Molly." Greg said firmly. "It was rough, failing like that, but it's over. I'm past it. Very, very far past it."

Molly smiled. "Good. Any other reasons I need to counter?"

Greg laughed and shook his head, but she could see a bit of anxiety lingering in the tension of his shoulders and how he kept his eyes on their hands. "I'm not Sherlock." he nearly whispered and Molly closed her eyes for a moment as agitation at both herself and Sherlock rolled over her.

"No." she agreed. "You're not. I don't want you to be. It isn't Sherlock I want, Greg. It hasn't been for a very long time. I don't think I ever really wanted the actual Sherlock, just the ideal version I'd built up of him. Look at me, please."

When Greg lifted his eyes to hers Molly took a second to gather her thoughts. "Sherlock is my friend. A wonderful, beautiful, arrogant, arsehole of a friend. Nothing more. You aren't him, but he isn't you either. And it's you, Greg. It's always going to be you."

He looked a little startled by that. "Always? Molly, what exactly are you trying to say here?"

"That what I thought I felt for Sherlock, what I wanted to feel for Tom, they all seem pale in comparison to what I feel for you. I'm tired of waiting and wondering. I want more, Greg. I want you. I want _us_. I want the flirting and the more and I don't want to waste any more time if those are things you want as well."

Greg was silent for a long beat, long enough that Molly started growing uncomfortable and pulled her hands free of his and folded them into her lap. She started picking at a loose piece of yarn from her jumper while she debated how best to leave with some dignity when Greg's chair scraped loudly across the floor as he stood. She looked up and watched as he rounded the tiny table. Opening her mouth to say something, a startled squeak came out when Greg went to his knees and grabbed the seat of her chair to turn her around to face him.

"You're serious, yeah?" he looked up at her a little anxiously and Molly nodded, not trusting her voice with her lungs striving for air. "Thank god for that."

Grasping her knees over her slightly too big trousers, Greg pushed her legs apart and then tugged her to the end of the seat so they were pressed against one another. Molly's breath hitched and then his fingers were threading just under her pony tail and he was tugging her head down to his. Then they were kissing and Molly willingly gave herself up to it.

It was wonderful and lovely, everything she'd ever imagined made better by the reality of it. The slight scratch of his stubble, how his lips were just a tad chapped, how warm and slick his tongue was as it slipped between her lips. He tasted like the tea he'd taken a sip of and the lingering hint of sleep. Molly raked her hands through the sides of his hair and gripped his head so she could deepen the kiss and take her turn at licking into his mouth.

"Mols." he groaned, pulling his mouth from hers to drop smaller kisses along her chin and cheeks. "We should slow down."

"Should we?" she panted, tipping her head so he could have more access to her throat.

"Yeah." he laved across her pulse point. "Want to do this right. Want to take you out. Court you proper. The way you deserve."

Molly hummed, endeared that he'd used the word 'court' but equally ready just to rip their clothes off and get down to it. Greg wasn't really helping things with the way he was kissing and licking her throat, his big hands running up and down her thighs.

"You can do that." Molly agreed. "That sounds wonderful. So does you taking me to your bed right now and shagging me until neither of us can walk properly tomorrow." Greg groaned and nipped her ear lightly. "Court me later."

"Right then." Greg licked just under her ear softly, a slow slide of the tip of his tongue. Molly shivered deeply, tightening her fingers in his hair. "Shagging now. Courting later."

"Yes." she nodded, pulling his head back up so she could kiss him deeply once more. "Please."

"Come on." Greg stood up and grasped her hand to pull her to her feet. "Before I forget all sense of decorum and we're fucking on the floor."

Molly, flushed and emboldened by his obvious desire for her, grinned cheekily at him. "Doesn't sound so bad."

Greg laughed, a bit huskier than normal. "No, it doesn't. Then, I doubt there's a place in the world that would sound bad when we're together. Seeing as this is our first, wouldn't you rather it be in a bed and not on a cold floor?"

"Yeah." she nodded and Greg grinned before pulling her flush against him, kissing her until she was slightly dizzy. Or maybe she was dizzy because now she could feel him, hard and wanting, pressed up against her. It made her ache and feel empty all at once.

"Eventually, Mols." he whispered roughly into her mouth. "I'll have you in every room in this flat. And yours."

An embarrassing little whimper tore from her throat. Greg chuckled, the bastard. But then he was grasping her hand and leading her back to his bedroom and she couldn't be arsed to care very much. Not when he was turning around to face her at the foot of the bed. Not with the heat in his eyes and the complete and utter adoration and desire on his face. The need. No one, ever, had looked at her in such a way. It was as humbling as it was empowering.

Over the years of working with and around him, Molly had often wondered what he looked like under his clothing. Even when she was wrapped up in Sherlock she wondered. Greg was an incredibly attractive man and Molly wasn't blind. Now she got her answer as they both worked to remove the others clothes. Molly had on more so it took longer while Greg grumbled about layers standing there in nothing but his pants. His chest and arms were solid and well defined, the greying hairs dusting over his chest and picking up again just under his navel. His stomach wasn't toned or ripped. He wasn't an underwear model or even someone who could regularly hit the gym, though he was far from being out of shape. Ignoring him as he worked the snap and zip of her trousers, Molly raked her short nails lightly across the slightly giving flesh of his stomach, smiling widely when he sucked in a breath and the obvious bulge in his pants jumped visibly.

"Never would I have guessed." Greg chuckled, pushing her hands away from his body before going back to work on her trousers, this time easily undoing them and working them off her hips.

"What's that?" she questioned, trying valiantly to ignore the instinct to curl in on herself now that she was standing in knickers and bra. Greg straightened up, eyes slowly roving over her exposed skin, a flush high on his cheeks.

"That sweet little Molly Hooper is a tease." he looked back at her face and grinned.

"In the right circumstances, I suppose." she tried to sound confident and cheeky, but it came out all shaky and breathless. Greg didn't seem to mind though as he smiled even wider before stepping into her so they were pressed together, now skin to skin. It felt wonderful and Molly moaned softly, letting her head tip back so she could meet Greg's mouth. He kissed her deeply, sucking her tongue lightly before Molly chased it back into his mouth. She countered by tracing the roof of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, gratified when a shiver rolled down his spine. Then Molly was the one shivering with an ineffectual gasp when Greg used the opportunity to run his tongue along the underside of hers. Distracted as she was by his wonderful kisses, she hardly paid attention to his rough hands running up and down her sides, spanning her back and moving up to her shoulder blades. She hadn't realised that he was working the clasp of her bra open until he pulled away with a muttered curse and she felt a tug on the material.

"Bra clasps were made by sadists." Greg grumbled. "Meant to make arses out of all men. It's been a while since I've tried to work one."

"Just, uh, leave it?" Molly offered with a wave of insecurity. "They're nothing to write home about anyway."

In the past, after several comments from Sherlock about her lack of enchantments in that department when she already had her own issues with them, Molly had started leaving a bra on during sex at all times. Even with Jim and then Tom. She made the effort to buy fancy bras, lacy ones that enhanced what she did have while distracting from what she didn't. As this hadn't been planned when she dressed this morning, it was just a plain old flesh toned bra.

"Molly." Greg cupped both of her cheeks and tipped her face up to his. "You can do whatever you're most comfortable with but just know, to me, every inch of you is beautiful. Also, I'm never going to write to anyone the details of your body. I'm a gentleman." he winked. "I don't kiss and tell."

"Right." Molly smiled a little shakily. "Yes. I'll just, um, let me." Reaching behind herself she flicked the clasp open but hesitated from actually removing it. Whether Greg noticed or not she didn't know. Either way, he stepped into her once again and started dropping sweet kisses along her neck and shoulder. His hands skimmed up her arms, then over her shoulders. Hooking his finger under each strap, he followed them down to where they connected to the cups and back again. He kept doing that, just kissing and touching until Molly fully relaxed and then he slowly pulled the straps down and off, giving her time to protest. She didn't and even lifted her arms a little so the straps fell down and then she tossed it off to the side. Greg didn't step away from her and he didn't stop kissing her shoulder while his hands slid up her back and neck. One hand wrapped around her pony tail and tugged her head back so his mouth could take hers again and the other drifted around to her side. Fingers tripping over her ribcage, Greg brought his hand up and around to cup one small breast. His large hand swallowed it, but the feel of his rough palm scrapping against her nipple had Molly moaning absurdly loud.

"Okay?" Greg pulled his mouth away as he continued his gentle kneading of her breast.

"Yes." Molly nodded frantically.

"Let's move to the bed, yeah?"

On shaky legs and without separating, they managed to make it onto the bed. Before Molly could really even consider a move, Greg was moving down her neck and chest before sucking one hard nipple into his mouth and massaging the peak with the flat of his tongue.

"Oh, Christ." she gasped, back arching sharply.

"Greg." he mumbled around his mouthful. "My name, Molly."

"Oh, yes." she panted, running her nails over his scalp in a continuous motion. "Please, Greg." she moaned again when he scrapped his teeth lightly over the bud as he released it from his mouth.

"Tell me what you want." he kissed around her breast and then moved over to the other.

"This." she gasped. "You. That feels, oh god, Greg. That feels good." Greg hummed into her flesh, bringing a hand up to toy with her other nipple. This, Molly realised, was what she'd been missing by never removing her bra for sex. She'd never really had her breasts played with or her nipples sucked and licked. It felt amazing. Terrific. Absolutely wonderful. She let Greg know how much she liked it by pressing herself into his touch, pleading for him not to stop. He made no attempt to and when the coiling heat that his touches were causing became too unbearable, Molly wrapped her legs around one of his thighs and pressed her aching core against him. He assisted by grasping a hip with his free hand and pressing his leg more firmly into her. Using the stimulation he was giving her, Molly started mindlessly rubbing herself against him. Greg sucked her nipple just a little harder and gave the other a delicious little roll and it all came undone and she gasped in surprise at how easy it was as she rode out the waves of pleasure.

Releasing her with a pop, Greg looked up at her face. He seemed to be breathing nearly as harshly as her. His lips were a little puffy and wet and it sent another shock of pleasure through her before her legs gave out and flopped down to the mattress on either side of his thigh.

"Did you?" he questioned in shock.

"Yeah." she nodded, licking her lips. "Was I not supposed to?"

That had Greg chuckling. "Daft woman." he kissed her mouth. "Course you were supposed to. I just didn't think it would be...I thought I'd have to work a lot harder. It's, uh, been a while. I was worried."

"You have no reason to be." she kissed his lips, then his scratchy chin. "You're wonderful. Can I, uh, well would you like me to, you know. Return the favour? You'll have to get off me first, obviously."

"Take your knickers off." he instructed gently, rolling off to her side so he could remove his pants. Molly did as he asked, kicking them somewhere near the foot of the bed while watching him do the same. He started to move back over her, but Molly pressed him onto his back once more and came over the top of him.

"Let me see you first." Greg nodded, mouth open slightly as he gripped the bedclothes at his hips. Molly took her time, first sitting up between his spread legs to take in the picture he presented, and then leaning down to kiss and lick and taste. Greg let her, his chest billowing as he held himself still. He gasped when she licked over his nipples and Molly grinned up at him without removing her lips from his skin. Greg let out a strained noise before dropping his head back to the pillows. Working her way down, she kissed over the slight hollows of his hip bones before nipping the skin there gently. He groaned, hips twitching upwards off the bed just a little. Molly stilled him with a hand on his lower stomach and wrapped her free hand around his length. Greg cursed softly when she gripped him tighter and gave him a slow stroke.

Releasing the blankets, Greg's hands came up to her head and Molly felt a bit of a sting as her hair was pulled.

"Sorry." he winced a little when she looked up at him. "Just...I want your hair down. Please."

Molly nodded and moved her hand from his stomach to tug the elastic free from her hair. Immediately Greg gathered it up into his hands and worked the tips of his fingers firmly into her scalp. Molly hummed with how good it felt, relaxing into it for a moment before turning back to what she'd been doing. When she brought her lips down to touch the hot skin of the head of him, Greg let out a broken noise, fingers tightening in her hair just a little. When she traced the rim of his foreskin with the tip of her tongue he trembled.

"Good, Mols." he rasped. "God that's good, but stop. Please stop."

"Why?" she lifted her head to look up at him but kept running her hand up and down his length.

"I want you. In you. You're going to end things too quickly like that." Molly gasped a little at how good that sounded and released him to lay down along his side. Greg rolled onto his side so they were facing each other and kissed her while running his fingers through her hair.

"I don't have any protection here." Greg said softly. "Not a whole lot of need for it. Might have one in my wallet, but there's no telling how old it is."

"I take the shot and get regularly tested for work so there's nothing to worry about on my end."

"Mine either." he kissed down her jawline, stubble scratching wonderfully against her skin. She whimpered softly when he cupped her breast again and let her eyes flutter shut. "But we can wait. I can run down to the store on the corner and buy some."

"You are not leaving this bed, DI Lestrade, until I've had my fill of you." she glared teasingly at him. "And I promise you that I'm very far from being full." she flushed when she realised how that sounded and Greg barked out a surprised laugh.

"Alright, alright. Whatever the lady wants."

"Yes, well, this lady wants you." she ran her hand down the length of his back and patted his bum. "Now, come on. I'm very much ready."

"As am I." Greg pushed her gently to lay flat on her back and she opened her legs to take him into the cradle of her hips. Fitting himself perfectly, Greg held himself off of her with his elbows on either side, face hovering just over hers.

"You've no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this, Molly." he whispered, running a hand across her forehead and into her hair.

"And now you do." she smiled.

Greg smiled back, a little in awe. "Yeah. You ready?" Molly nodded, then sucked in a breath when he started pressing slowly into her. Her eyes involuntarily blinked shut and her body stretched to take him inside of her.

"Jesus Christ, Molly." Greg dropped his head down to her shoulder as his pelvis came to press against hers.

"I know." she agreed in a whisper, her body throbbing around him. When he started moving again, Molly was quite certain her world was coming apart at the seams in the very best of ways. It was steady and every stroke in Greg remembered to rock his hips in a way that ground his pelvis against the most sensitive part of her and soon she was building back up, her body tightening and her thighs starting to shake.

"Are you..." Greg lifted his head to look at her, breath coming in bursts over her mouth.

"Yeah." she keened, neck arching backward. "Yeah. So close."

"Fuck." he gasped, a hand drifting across her chest to grasp one breast firmly and Molly nearly screamed when he took her nipple between his fingers and started to roll it in time with his thrusts. It seemed that was all she needed for the coiling to reach it's peak and break. She came with a silent scream, Greg's name pulling up from somewhere deep inside of her.

"Damn." he cursed again, shifting his legs around so he could start thrusting harder and faster. "Damn, damn. Oh, shit." he brought his mouth down to her shoulder and bit down as his hips gave a few more staccato thrusts before going still. Molly held him to her, petting his damp hair with one hand and wrapping her other arm around his shoulders that seemed to be trembling a little.

"Greg?" she whispered rather roughly.

"Yeah?" he mumbled into her shoulder.

"Are you still with me?" she asked, kissing the side of his neck.

"No." he shook his head. "I'm dead now. Somewhere in heaven I think."

"Hush." Molly laughed. "You're going to have to roll off. As nice as this is and all, I'm having trouble breathing properly."

"Shit." he rolled off immediately. "Sorry."

"No worries." she rolled towards him and Greg shoved an arm under her neck and pulled her even closer.

"You are lovely recently pleasured." he smiled at her.

Molly ducked her head. "Not bad yourself, Inspector."

"Mm." he hummed, kissing her head. "I think I might love you, Molly Hooper."

Head snapping back up so she could see his face, Molly forgot to breathe for a moment. Searching those beautiful brown eyes for an indication he might be teasing. Molly found only the steady and honest gaze he'd always given her.

"I'm not asking you to say it back, Mols." he kissed her nose. "I just wanted you to know."

"Thank you, Greg." she whispered before kissing his lips. "You are the most wonderful man I've ever met."

"I want you to stay. Will you stay? I don't work today."

"I'll stay." she smiled at him. "I'm off until late this evening and then I'm only on call."

"We'll go get breakfast later." he yawned. "After a few hours shut eye."

"Do you think I could maybe use your shower first?"

"Course." he released his hold on her. Climbing out of bed, Greg led her to the bathroom and pulled out a towel from under the sink before wetting a flannel for himself to clean up and then left her to it. Feeling somewhat like a school girl again, Molly couldn't stop smiling the entire time she was in the shower. She honestly couldn't remember the last time someone made her as happy as Greg. No one, with the exception of her parents, had ever made her feel as safe and loved.

Finishing up with cleaning the morgue and love making off of herself, Molly got out and quickly dried off. Wrapping the towel around herself, she found a comb in the medicine cabinet and worked the knots free from her hair. Going back into Greg's bedroom, she found him laying on his back, covers pulled up around his waist and eyes closed, looking very much asleep. Dropping the towel, she snagged the white shirt he'd been wearing earlier and pulled it on. When her head came free, she found Greg watching her with a smirk on his face.

"I'm borrowing this." she informed him primly before crawling under the blankets he'd lifted up for her. She caught a glimpse of the fact he was wearing pants once again.

"Keep it." he tugged her into his side and Molly gratefully settled her head onto his chest. "Looks better on you anyway."

"Goodnight, Greg." she poked his side.

"Good morning, Molly." he teasing replied, then kissed her forehead. With a content sigh, Molly closed her eyes and curled tighter into his warmth. The gentle pressure of his fingers coasting up and down her spine coupled with the steady thrum of his heartbeat under her ear and soon she was drifting off.

"Greg?" she mumbled, half asleep.

"Hm?"

"I think I do, too." she whispered, rubbing her cheek into his chest. "Love you, I mean."

His breathing hitched, but he didn't say anything. Just pressed another kiss to her forehead and squeezed her tighter to his side. Molly was fairly certain she never wanted him to let go.


End file.
